RedHaired DeathEater
by chicadoodle
Summary: He was forced to take the dark mark against his will. What do you do you do when you can't turn to your own twin for comfort? {fredoc] [revised and rewritten] CHAPTER 9 UPLOADED!
1. chapter 1

He slid the blade across the tender flesh on the underside of his right arm, watching as the thin line of red blood appeared in it's wake. The blood slowly slid down his arm, obscuring, for the moment, the other cuts and scars that decorated his arm.  
  
Drawing in a shaky breath, he slid his tongue across the thick red luquid, savouring the tangy flavour that assaulted his taste buds.  
  
Fred Weasley shivered in the cool night air, allowing the knife to slip from his fingers and fall to the ground with a loud clatter. His hand now vacant, he brought it over to his forearm, nails digging deep as he tore at the flesh. Flesh forever sullied with the mark of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.  
  
Fred didn't even try to bite back the sob that tore from his throat, nails digging deeper and harder as he attempted in vain to claw away that offending piece of artistry forever engraved onto his forearm.  
  
They'd grabbed him in the bookstore, when George was busy talking to their father about the Joke Shop. He'd been skimming through some books, waiting for George to finish so they could check the proper ones out. Just because they didn't attend Hogwarts anymore didn't mean that they weren't going to continue their magical education anymore, after all.  
  
That was when they'd captured him -- when the Death Eater's had come. Nobody else had ever even realised that they were there, and in a matter of seconds he'd been whisked away, straight into the presense of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.  
  
They'd forced this ........ abomination onto his arm, and then apparated him into Knockturn Alley. Somehow, he'd made it out of there and into the Leaky Couldron, and from there straight into Muggle London.  
  
He'd found the knife in a trashcan down a little side alley, and instantly latched onto the idea. Ife he could carve out the Dark Mark, then perhaps he could go home, claim he had simply gotten lost.  
  
With the first cut, though, he'd known it was hopeless. The magic infused intot he mark caused all damage to it and the skin which it was engraved upon to heal instantly. So now, he simply cut away at that arm, relishing in the pain he inflicted upon himself.  
  
If he could feel pain, thent hath meant that he was still human, that he wasn't like that deranged psychopath, Voldermort.  
  
Didn't it?  
  
As another sob was torn from his throat, Fred reached out blindly, grabbing onto the knife yet again as he brought it down on the Dark Mark. He didn't care that he couldn't actually do harm to the abomination engraved here -- he ha to feel. He had to know that he was still HIM, was still the same boy that he had been only this morning.  
  
sobbing non-stop now, Fred allowed the knife to fall from nerveless fingers as he rose unsteadily to his feet, stumbling down the alley toward the street. He was still too close to Diagon Alley, too close to people who knew him. He had to get away ........ nobody could know. Nobody could ever see it, ever know that he bore the mark of Lord Voldermort. They'd think that he had taken it willingly, that he was a Death Eater.  
  
He couldn't handle that. He knew that with a certainty that was almost frightening. To see a look of disgust and hatred on George's face ........ he couldn't. He wouldn't.  
  
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i'm re-writing it! hopefully it turns out better this time ........ enjoy :D 


	2. chapter 2

okay, i've already gotten some pretty good reviews for this story, so here's the next chapter. i update upon recieving reviews, so pleae review :D  
  
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Fred was missing. George Weasley slid his shaking hands through his messy red hair, frantically trying to bite back the scream that he could feel rising to his throat.  
  
Throughout everything that had happened in the past year, with Umbridge and voldermort's return, his father almost dying iwth on a job from the Order ........ throughout it all, Fred had always been there. He'd never even thought it possible for something to happen to Fred, truth be told.  
  
And now ........ they'd found evidence that somebody had apparrated directly into the bookstore, right where Fred had been standing, and had apparrated directly out, with Fred. Nobody had really said anything, but it was known fact that those people had most likely been DeathEaters.  
  
But there was no proof of that, and because of that the ministry was simply treating this like any other kidnapping case. If they knew it was Deatheaters .......... they most likely wouldn't have even bothered. After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named didn't take prisoners, right? If he took you, he did it to kill you.  
  
George quickly close his eyes against the tears he could feel threatening to overflow. He tiredly ran his hand over his face, before sighing softly and slouching down in his seat at the kitchen table.  
  
It was comming up on 24 hours now that Fred had missing, and so far they STILL had nothin gnew to show for it.  
  
For all they knew, fre could already be dead.  
  
"George? What are you still doing up?" Molly Weasley stared at her son, a frown gracing her features. It was odd, actually seeing him by himself, without Fred close by to finish his sentances for him. Strange ........ and a little sad.  
  
"Couldn't sleep. Room shouldn't be that quiet, that empty." George mumbled, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.  
  
Molly sighed, settling herself into the seat directly to the left of her son. "Fred is fine, George. I'm sure of it. Wherever he is, he'll come home to us." Molly smiled into the tear-filled gaze of the currently oldest child living in her home, reaching forward to brush away a wayward strand of red hair that had fallen over his eyes.  
  
"Fred will be fine." She repeated, before leaning forward and wrapping her arms around him, smiling softly as he felt his strong arms wrap around her tightly.  
  
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Fred Weasley stared at the man in front of him, silently going over his options. He and George weren't fools -- they'd read enough muggle literature to know about the various drugs that had been invented -- or discovered, however once wanted to look at it.  
  
He'd heard of Herione, sure. And the man wasn't asking for much -- only fifty pounds. He had that -- more than that, actually. He and George had been planning on going into muggle London as soon as they could get away from their parents, going out to eat and then meeting up with some of their muggle friends for a night on the town.  
  
George drew in a shaky breath, forcing his thoughts onto less dangerous ground. He couldn't keep thinking about George -- it didn't do his current situation any good, that much was for sure.  
  
Reaching into the pocket of his robes, Fred quickly pulled out a small handfull of money, quickly counting out fifty pounds before handing it to the man.  
  
If it could make him forget, even for just a little while ........ than it was far more than worth it.  
  
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chapter 2, rewritten! please review!  
  
Susanna N. Graham : i kow, he's always been one of my favs, too! and there really should be more fics on him, i agree.  
  
ChildcalledNothing : hehe, yes, i'll definately e-mail you. and also, it's turning into a fullblown story, don't worry!  
  
also, remember that my stories never have a set plan to them, people. if you have an idea you wanna throw at me. please do so! i'm always open to new ideas and pairings, so if you mention it, i just might make it a part of the story. it especially helps when i have writer's block :D 


	3. chapter 3

as promised, the revised version of chapter 3 is now here. enjoy :D  
  
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He felt ........ strange. Fred blearily blinked his eyes open, staring about himself in confusion. Everything seemed to spinning, and he was beinning to feel slightly sick. He could barely make out his surroundings. but it was obvious that he was still outside. The last thing he remembered was jamming the needle into his arm none too gently, relishing the pain that it inflicted, and then ........ nothing. He couldn't remember a damn thing.  
  
Rolling over onto his hands and knees, Fred suddenly groaned as he began retching on the ground beneath him, frantically tryin gto scramble away from his own vomit so that his robes didn't become sullied.  
  
That was when he noticed the very telling fact that he wasn't wearing any robes. He'd been stripped of everything besides the muggle clothing he worth beneath his robes, actually. His wand was gone, pulled out of the back pocket of his jeans, his robes -- the most obvious part -- now gone and seemingly nowhere in sight, and the bulge of money in his left pants pocket was also missing.  
  
He'd been robbed, in other words.  
  
Groaning under his breath, Fred slowly pushed himself to his feet, sighing in relief when he didn't feel the need to empty the contents of his stomach yet again.  
  
It took him a couple of minutes, but Fred was finially able to make it to the end of the small alleyway he was currently residing in, and he breathed a sigh of relief when he realised that he was as far away from the Leaky Couldron as he ever had been. Nothing here was even remotely familiar, even from his ramblings last night. Although, he could certaintly have continued moving even after he'd taken that ........ substance. Herione, it was called. Interesting name, and an even mor einteresting feeling. One that he was kind of looking forward to experiencing again.  
  
Sighing under his breath, Fred slowly walked out intot he dark night, keeping close to the line of buildings on his left side, hand on the cool stone to steady himself.  
  
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Fred leaned against the railing, watching the people working on the dock below. He'd been walking blindly, not really watching wher ehe was going, and had somehow ended up here.   
  
He was so tired. And scared. He didn't know where he was going to sleep tonight, or even how he was going to get anything to eat. Before, he'd had a little bit of money, atlest. Enough to get him atleast one solid meal a day for a coupleof days. Now ........ no money, no wand, no anything. Just the clothes he was wearing, and even those weren't the best on the block.  
  
The sun had risen just a little while ago, and it had seemed so ........ beautiful, so calming. So innocent. it made him think of second chances. And that was one thing that he most definately did NOT want to think about.  
  
Nobody would accept him back hom. He knew that. They could never see past the tattoo magically engraved upon his forearm. The sign of a Deatheater.  
  
Pushing away from the railing, Fred turned to go, only to run headlone into a very large, very strong, very solid chest. Giving out a startled "oumph!" Fred stumbled backwards, ending up falling ungracefully on his rump.   
  
"Kid, there a reason your here?" A gruff voice, laced with humour asked, and Fred quickly glanced up at the source, and found himself staring into smiling, warm brown eyes. The man was large, but not unhumanly so, and somehow Fred was reminded of Hagrid, even though this man could in no way compare to the half-giant in size.  
  
"N-no sir. I was just ........ erm ........" Fred suddenly realised that he had no real reason for being around here. What was he supposed to say? That he'd been wandering aimlessly all night and had just ENDED UP HERE? It was so lame, the man would probably take him off to the authorities for tresspassing or some other such thing.  
  
"You a runaway?" The question was so unexpected that Fred found that he couldn't formulate an actual reply. No, he most certaintly ........ Why, yes he was. the realization hit him like a sack of potatoes. That was most certaintly what he was, in a nutshell. He was a runaway.  
  
"How old are you?" The other man had obviously taken his lack of a reply as confirmation that he was correct, and was now reaching down to help Fred to his feet. Fred accepted the help readily enough, before stepping away from the other man and brushing off hsi clothes, more for something to do than anything else.  
  
"17, sir." He answered truthfully, not noticing how the other man's eyes narrowed at that. He was too busy trying to think of a way to get out of here without having the authorities called.  
  
"Well, kid -- what's your name?"   
  
"Fred"  
  
"Well, Fred, if your telling the truth about your age ........ you looking to make some cash? I don't usually do this, mind you ........ but you don't seem the bad sort like most street kids I see 'round here. I got some jobs i wouldn't mind pushing off to some willing, younger hands ........ if your interested. I know the boys would love to have some more free time on their hands, and leave the work to you. More you work, more you get paid."  
  
Fred stared at the man in surprise, before grinning full out. "Sure, I'd love it!" He exclaimed, before blushing hotly. "Uh, that is, I mean ........"  
  
"Heh. Don't worry about it. You gotta be hungry, so come on. I've got a spare sandwich you can have, and then you'll get to work. 


	4. chapter 4

Fred sighed softly, wiping the sweat from his brow as he glanced up at the main part of the docks. His time all day had been spent mainly lugging sealed boxes from one point to another. He hadn't been trusted with anything that could actually be concealed or taken off the premises, but that wasn't too bad. As long as he had enough money for a bit of food ........  
  
"Hey, time's up. You did pretty good today, kid. Come back tomorrow, and i'll pay you the same." Reuben -- which was what the large man's name was, Fred had learned -- smiled, handing Fred a small wad of bills.  
  
Fred returned the grin, nodding in agreement. "I'll be back over in the morning, then." Fred returned, before turning and running down the length of the dock, anxious to get away and get some real food -- and maybe other substances, namely the drug from last night -- into his system.  
  
He'd ended up with soup and a small sandwich for dinner that night -- he'd kept it as cheap as he possibly could, knowing that there wre other things he'd rather be spending his money on.  
  
Fred couldn't explain it, really. He just wanted this, wnated the drug. It helped, having that time to just chill, to coin a muggle phrase. He just ........ needed this. He couldn't explain it, he just knew it.  
  
Now, all he had to do was find the man who had sold it to him the previous night ........   
  
Fred sighed in frustration, slumping back against the cool brick wall behind him. He'd been searching for nearly two hours now, and he couldn't find hide nor hair of the guy.  
  
"Looking for something?" asked a familiar voice, and Fred swung arond to face the short, stubbly man behind him. SUCCESS! Fred grinned, before digging his hand into the pocket of his jeans and pulling on a handfull of money.  
  
The man suddenly grabbed his arm, making Fred yelp softly in surprise. "Look, kid, these drugs ........ they aint exactly legal. I got the impression you was a smart kid. If either of us go caught, we'd go to jail faster'n that brain of yours could imagine. So try and be a bit more careful next time, okay?"  
  
Fred nodded his agreement, before slowly handing the other man all the money that he had. "How much can this get me?" He asked, raising an eyebrow in question.  
  
The other man simply grinned, before taking the money and counting out how much was there. Not much, but he had't expected that the kid was rich.  
  
Once again, Fred found himself waking up with no memory of the previous night after he had taken the drugs, but atleast this time he recognised where he was -- the same alleyway that he had worken up in before.  
  
His ........ what was that guy? His dealer? He had brought him back to rundown little apartment not far from here, heated up the Herione so that he could inject it. After that, though ........ it was all a blank.  
  
Rolling over onto his side, Fred blinked at the scruffy looking boots he barely missing running his face into. Following the boots to a pair of legs, Fred continued to let his eyes travel updwards until he came into contact with a face.  
  
Groaning softly, Fred let his eyes slide shut and his head drop baack down to the ground as he recognised the face of the man above him. Reuben.   
  
Severus Snape.  
  
Severus Snape did not like fools. Nor did he like most muggles. A few he could tolerate, but for the most part he'd just assume not have any contact with them.  
  
And he most certaintly did not like the Weasleys. Most especially the Weasley twins. they were far too ........ chipper for his tastes. They broke too many rules, for no ot her reason than to amuse themselves and the people around them.  
  
He didn't actually mind if students broke a rule here and there ........ as long as they had a good, valid reason. And the Wesley twins NEVER had a valid reason for the amount of rules they broke.  
  
He never for the life of him thought that he'd find one of those same twins unconcious in an alley in muggle london, with the smell of stale sex and alcohol surrounding him like a thick vapour.  
  
Slowly bending down, but careful not to touch any part of his clothing to the ground, Severus slid an arm around the red-head's shoulders, hoisting him up and to stand on his own two feet. He allowed the boy to lean hevily against him, knowing that it would most likely be impossible for the boy to stand on his own at this point.  
  
"Just WHAT are you doing here, Weasley? You do realize that your parents think Voldermort has captured you, don't you?" SEverus sighed in exasperation when he got no response from the teen, idly wondering if the Weasley clan got some kind of perverse pleasure from annoying him. Nah, they'd haveto be in Slytherin for something like that.  
  
Roughly pushing such thoughs to the back of his brain for later evaluation, Severus ran his eyes quickly over the bo's limp figure, stopping on his arms. Cuts and scras littered the tanned skin, and he could just see the beginnings of a tattoo on the boy's forearm.  
  
Tattoo ........? Severus thought in surprise, reaching forward and grabbing the arm in question and swiftly turning it over before the boy could offer any sort of resistance.  
  
The Dark Mark. Severus glanced quickly up athe boy's tear filled gaze, seeing the blind fear there. Fear of what Severus would now do.  
  
"Did you wnat this? Answer me, Weasley! Did you want this, or did he force it on you?" Severus spoke quickly and harshly, knowing that if anybody else saw this before was able to get the whole story, there was no way that he could stop the kid from being sent to Azkaban. The Ministry wouldn't even bother getting the truth -- the Dark Mark meant a follower of Voldermort, to them.  
  
"p-please. Please! I didn't want it! T-they made me, they hurt me and they touched me, and they made me sit there while they put it on me, and please just let me go!" Fred was sobbing non-stop now, not even bothering to try and act brave for the older man.  
  
"Weasley, listen to me. I belive you, arlght? But we haveto get you home before anybody sees this, and understands what it means. The Ministry won't ask quetions. Do you understand what that means? They won't ask why you got this, or even how. They won't care that you didn't want it, that it was forced on you. They'll simply throw you into Azkaban, no questions asked. Do you understand what i'm saying?"  
  
Fred nodded his understanding, and Severus let out the breath he hadn't even realised he'd been holding. Only to growl internally in frustration at the boy's next words.  
  
"I ........ I can't go home. You don't understand! If George thinks that I'm some kind of Death Eater ........ you don't understand what that'll do to me! Please, don't ask me to do this, Professor. I just can't see that look on his face. It'll kill me,don't you undertand that?" Fred knew that he was begging, but at this point he didn't much care.  
  
"Listen to me, you little twerp. They WILL NOT think that. They are your family, and as much as I am loath to admit it, they are a good family. They are GOOD PEOPLE, and won't simply turn their backs on your because of this. They'll understand. Do you hear me, Weasley? Fred?"  
  
It was hearing the Potions master use his first name, more than anything else, that told Fred just how serious the other man was.  
  
If snape could trust him, then maybe, just maybe ........ George could too.  
  
Fred nodded slowly, swallowing thickly past the lump of fear that had appeared in his throat. He felt sick to his stomach, but knew, instinctively, that the sooner he got this over and done with, the sooner he would start to feel better. Better to know what they would think of him now, rather than life the rest of his life in fear of them finding out some other way.  
  
"W-wait!" Fred suddenly exclaimed asSeverus started heading in the direction of the Leaky Couldron. Or, well, Fred supposed that was where they were headed -- he really didn't know where anything besides the docks were at this point.  
  
"Now what?" Severus growled in expasperation, turning to glare at the red-head.  
  
"I ........ I kind of have a job. Reuben ........ he expects me to come over this morning and work, just like I did yesterday." Fred explained softly,shifting uneasily from one foot to the other under the pentrating gaze of his currently annoyed potions professor.  
  
"I'll take care of it. But first, we NEED TO GET YOU HOME. I certaintly don't want to haveto deal with all the paperwork that will show up if the declare you legally dead before we get you back there." Snape muttered the last part under his breath, but Fred couldn't help but smile at the comment nonetheless. It was so ........ Snape-like.  
  
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this is NOT the end of the story! this story still had SEVERAL chapter to do. think atleast 10 more, if not more. please feview, tell me what you think. also : muggle london, or the wizarding world? where should fred end up after the confrontation with his family? i'm still undecided ........ enjoy, and remember to review :D  
  
cassi angelica : i made you CRY? wow. blinks okay, um, i'm glad you liked it so much. wow.  
  
khayla : yes, there aren't many decent ones out there, are there? hope you like this chappie as much as the last one! and thanks for reviewing so much! wow, three times :D 


	5. chapter 5

Sometimes, Severus Snape truly hated magic. It was just ........ you got so used to it, to having all thse conveniences and luxuries that sometimes you forgot about the darker aspects.  
  
The muggle world was truly a wonderful place. You knew what you were getting there -- no shrinking house keys,nomirrors that could talk,no shoes that were protkeys.  
  
No Deatheaters waiting to kidnap you at a local bookstore.  
  
Glancing down at the sleeping form of Fred Weasley lying beside him, Severus sight softly. The boy had almost gone ballistic when Severus had attempted to Apparate them towards Hogwarts, and so they had been forced to flag down the Knight Bus.  
  
Fred had fallen sleep against his shoulder almost instantly, and they'd stayed liek this for the past two hours, as the bus dropped off all of it's previous passengers. Being the middle fo the day, there were quite a few on board, too.  
  
Sighing softly, Severus snape leaned back into his seat, watching as the scenery flashed by. Only two or three more people to go, and they'd be brought to The Burrow, where they could then contact the rest of the Weasley Clan,urrently residing in Numver 12, Grimmauld Place.  
  
Because of Voldermort's recently more ........ aggressive activities, special barriers had been erected around, and within the headquarters of The Order of the Pheonix. Entr6y was only permitted from certain areas -- if you attempted to enter from any other place, you were simply thurst back out.  
  
Entering by way of the front door was no longer possible, for example. Entry through a portkey at exactly 15 minutes before the house from the Weasley residence, howerver, was most definately permitted.  
  
As with actually going tot he Order Headquarters, contacting them was restricted to certain fireplaces, as well. They were simply cut off from the rest of the Floo Network.  
  
This could be done by,among other places, the offices of Heamaster Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape, or the fireplace at The Burrow.  
  
They wouldn't actually be going tot he Order headquarters -- the only means of reaching the place was either by portkey of floo powder. Magical -- which Fred absolutely refused to do.   
  
Glancing once again out the window, Severus quickly reached down, gently shaking the red-head's shoulder to rouse him from his sleep.  
  
Fred groaned softly under his breath, slowly blinking his eyes open. Glancing up and meeting the gaze of the potions master, Fred was surprised to see a slow smile forming on the dark-haired man's face -- starting with his lips, and slowly but surely spreading into his eyes.  
  
"Come on, kid. We're here."  
  
Wondereing idly where "here" was, Fred did as he was told,ising to his feet and slowly doing a full body strectch -- spreading his arms wide, arching his back and dropping his head back.  
  
Severus chuckled softly at the sight the boy made, making Fred jump slightly and turn to look at him in surprise.  
  
The smile was instantly gone, only to be replaced by the trademark Snape smirk. His eyes, howerver, were dancing merrily.  
  
As soon as they were off the bus, howerver, fred's previous good mood evaporated.  
  
The Burrow. He was ........ home. Why didn't that htought make him feel any better?  
  
Severus Swore softly under his breath, reaching out blindly in a desperate attempt to grab hold of Fred as he attempted to bolt. His hands, howerver, came up empty.   
  
'And here I was thinking that the hard part was over' Severus thought irritably as he truned and dashed after the departing red-head.  
  
Fred didn't remember when, exactly, he'd decided to turn tail and run. Most likely, it hadn't even been a concsious decision. All that he knew, was that Professor Snape was wrong.  
  
How could they posibly accept him? How could anyone accept him? He was now and forevermore randed as a follower of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. A psychotic mass murderer that his family would give anything -- ANYTHING -- to destroy.  
  
He was a traitor.  
  
Fred bit back the sob that rose to his throat, stumbling a little over his own two feet. Before he could right himself, howerver, a pair of strong arms wrapped around him from the back, sending them both down to the ground and pinning him there.  
  
Fred sniffed loudly from his spot at the kitchen table, watching as Professor Snape walked into the living room and out of his line of sight. A second later,t he sound of the floo-powered fireplace roaring to life reached his ears, and Fred quickly squeezed his eyes eyes shut, wishing that he could cover his ears, block out the sound of his parent's voiced that he knew were comming.  
  
Howerver, the full body bind that Snape had just case on him kind of prevented that.  
  
That, and the Calming draguht was starting to take effect. He couldn't seem to hold on to his anger, his fear. It was all dissapating, in a way that was decidedly unnatural.  
  
He wasn't supposed to be this calm, this relaxed, dammit! He was supposed ........ supposed to ........  
  
Fred sighed softly,etting his head drop down and tot he side.  
  
That last thing he saw was the face of Lucius Malfoy, staring at him from beind the back of a tall, black-cloaked figure. Lord Voldermort was here.  
  
Fred knew that the reason behind his calmness was the Calming Draught that Snape had given him, and he had to wonder if the man had had a part in this. After all, he had once been a Deatheater. Who was to say that he hadn't returned to his old ways?  
  
And then Voldermort himself fired a spell, and Fred felt himself being surrounded by a warm glow, before sweet, blissful darkness overtook him. 


	6. chapter 6

A tall, red-haired youth lay on the thin hospital bed, strapped in place as he screamed as loud as he possibly could.  
  
Why had Voldermort done this? Torture, he could undertand. Rape? Sure. But locking him up in a muggle Mental Insitution?  
  
He'd tried explaining things to the people here, first. Tried telling them about the Dark Mark, about voldermort.  
  
But they hadn't believed him, had acted as if he was crazy - which was obviously the reason they thought he was here. Because he was crazy - dilusional.  
  
So now, he just screamed. Sometime they had him drugged up, so that he couldn't scream, couldn't even remember that he wanted to.  
  
They'd be comming in to give him his medication soon. But until they did, he would fight in the only way he knew how - screaming.  
  
He couldn't fight back when they fed him his medicatiom, couldn't try and escape to another part of the roo, or even try to knock the meds out of their hands. He'd been strapped to his bed almost frm the minute he arrived here.  
  
They said it was to protect him from himself, so that he couldn't try and harm himself again. He'd tried to explain that he had never wanted to actuall KILL himself, but that had just seemed to alarm them even more.  
  
As the door slowly opened, Fred drew in a deep breath, prepared to give out one last defiant scream in the nurse's face, only to have the air rush out of him at the sight of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, standing there in plain muggle clothing.  
  
"Hello, Fred. How are you today?" A smile had formed on Voldermort's lips, and as hard as he tried, Fred couldn't seem to find anything maliscous about it.  
  
Fred bit down on his bottom lips, forcing back the questions that rose to his lips. Instead, he settled for glaring headedly at the older man, neverm oving from his position.  
  
Lord Voldermort, formerly known as Tom Riddle, slowly walked toward fred, his eyes moving from Fred's frightened eyes to the metal clasps that held the young man's arms and legs in place.  
  
Really now, Fred ........ must you be so difficult? I had hoped that you would prove cooperative and take the medications that they gave you willingly. If you had, they never would have had to go to such lengths to restrain you."  
  
Fred could feel the anger bubbling up inside him, threatening to overspill at any minute.  
  
'This is Voldermort He reminded himself angrily, desperately trying to keep in check the famous Weasley temper. Now was neither the time nor the place.  
  
"Why?" It was only one word, but it frightened him to no end w hat the reprecussions for that one simple word would be.  
  
"You have no idea what you are, my boy, do you? No idea how important you. It's a pity, really ........ and so incredibly funny." Voldermot was smiling now, never taking his eyes off Fred's prone form.  
  
Fred merely glared at the other wizard, before glancing away again. He knew, from various stories that his father andmother had shared just recently, that Voldermort liked to mess with people's heads. He liked to twist their thoughts, get inside their deepest, darkest, most private of thoughts and feelings. It was just another form of torture, to him.  
  
Tom Riddle stared at the red-haired youth lying before him, barely catching himself from sighing in frustration.  
  
They boy simply refused to listen to him. Anything he said, would simpy be ignored. And as much as he may have wanted to punish the red-haired boy for his insolence, he knew that he couldn't.  
  
Fred had to trust him for this to work. Nobody had trust him for a long, long time. Had anybody ever trusted him?  
  
Fred was still glaring at him, and Tom couldn't help the small smile tha tspread across his lips. The boy really did hate him.  
  
"If you promisenot to attempt to run -- not that it'll do you any good -- I can have you released from your restraints. Do you promise, Fred?"  
  
It all began with trust. And since Fred obviously wouldn't take the first step, he would haveto.  
  
Fred simply stared at the man standing before him. On one hand, the rational part of his brain was screaming at him not to rust the older man. Another, less calm part of him just wanted out of this damned bed ........ out of this room, out of this hospital.  
  
Fred slowly nodded, clenching his hands into fists and watching voldermort warily as the man approached.  
  
Again, that smile crossed his features, and Fred coujldn't help the shiver that raced down his spine.  
  
And then those cold, lean fingers were on his arm, trailing across his skin, raising goosebumps on the pale flesh.  
  
Tom smiled softly, his wand held in his other hand, our of the red-heads line of sights. The spell was simple enough, but so old that most people had forgotten that it even existed.  
  
There was no acutal name for the spell ........ or atleast, not one that anybody could pronounce.  
  
But the effect that it produced was perfect.  
  
While the OBLIVIATE spell erased all of a person's memory, either of a specific even, or even of their entire life, this spell worked slightly different.  
  
As Fred slumped back into the bed, uncounscous, the man known only as Lord Voldermort to most of the wizarding world smiled coldly.  
  
When he woke up, Fred Weasley wold have no memory of a man named Lord voldermort ever existing. In his mind, Albus Dumbledore would be a raving lunatic who had fooled most everybody with his "gentle old man" act. However, Fred knew the truth. Fred had seen the olderm an fly into a muderous rage.  
  
Or so he would believe.  
  
To hell with trust. He didn't need it. As longas he had mind-controlling spells ........ then that was all he needed.  
  
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emikae -- yes, cliffies are good. here's you latest chappie. hope you enjoy :D  
  
crying tears of forever -- :) 


	7. chapter 7

Fred Weasley groaned softly, blearily blinking open his eyes. The tall, slim figure of Lucius Malfoy entered into his visage, and Fred smiled in relief at the sight.  
  
"Uncle Luc! Thank goodness!" Relief evident in both his face and his voice, Fred quickly sat up, ignoring the blinding pain that exploded in his head as he wrapped his arms around the taller man's waist.  
  
Lucius Malfoy blinked in surprise, the only outward display of the shock he was feeling on thie inside. He reache ddown, wrapping one arm around the boy's middle, as he ran his fingers through thick, silky red hair.  
  
"I was so scared, Uncle Luc. Why would that Death Eater take me like that? Do you think Papa will punish him for making me take the Dark Mark?"  
  
Again, Lucius Malfoy found himself blinking in surprise at the words comming out fo the red-head's mouth.  
  
'Papa? Who the hell is Papa and why would he be the one to punish this supposed Death Eater who engraved the Dark Mark upon his arm?'  
  
Thinking back on the conversation that he'd had with the Dark Lord earlier that day, Lucius suddenly smiled, continuing to trail his fingers through Fred's think red hair.  
  
Fred WEasley saw the Dark Lord Voldermort as a second father, a man that he looked up and to and wanted, with all of hismight to emulate.  
  
"Fred, I need you to getup. We need you to head home, tell you parents that Lord Voldermort kidnapped you, forced the Dark Mark on you."  
  
Fred jerked back away from the pale man, glaring heatedly. "But, Papa would never do that! Not ever!" His eyes narrowed as Lucius continued to smile in that damned, infuriating way.  
  
"Fred, you now very well that not everybody sees himas you do. Most people believe him to be al ying, decietful bastard, a murderer of women and childeren ........ a psychopath. If you try and explain to anybody back at your house what he's like with you ......... they'll simply believe that he's done something to you, playied with your mind somehow. So you haveto lie. You know all of this, Fred."  
  
Lucius sighed in relief as he watched Fred's shoulders sag, and he quickly pulled the boy into a comforting embrace.  
  
"it's just ........ I hate how everybody sees him, how Dumbledore twists what he's trying to do ........ How he kills all those people, hried those men to act like their Papa's folowers, and nobody ever thinks to questions that psychotic oldloon! I just hate it so much!" Fred's words had risen, louder and louder in volume, until ge was shouting the last words.  
  
Luvcius simply tightened his arms around the red-head's now shaking frame, allowing the boy's tears to fall freely.  
  
Albus Dumbledore was evil. Fred WEasley knew that, knew it with all of his heart and soul ........ and he hated the man with a passion.  
  
he could remember, s clearly, that maked death EAter grabbing him in the middle of the night, as he walked to one of his meeting with Papa. With Lord voldermort.  
  
Meetings. Hah. Was it even ALLOWED for him to call them that? All tha tis ever really entitled was llose conversation about anything and everything that came to theirminds, all served over a light dinner of his favourite foods.  
  
Fred sighed softly, slowly setting himself down onto the ground just outside of The Burrow, wincing slightly as his side protested at the extra weight being placed on it.  
  
In order to make their story of capture and torture at the hands of Lord Voldermort more believable, Papa had been forced to cast cer tain spells ........ spells that had promptly cuased Fred to pass out for nearly an hour, after which time he had woken to find various welts and bruises covering his body, in some places that he REALLY didn't want to think about.  
  
It had hurt ........ alot. But it had to be done. There cold be noc hance of anybody suspecting the true nature of his relationship to Lord voldermort.  
  
They hadn't been able to apparate him directly here, and had been forced to send him twomiles ouot, just outside of the anti-apparation wards now surrounding his home.  
  
Papa hadn't liked that, either, but again, it couldn't be helped.  
  
Wimpering softly in pain, fRed curled himself into a tightlittle ball a he frantically attempted to block out the bone-wrenching pain. He finially succeeded, falling asleep just as the first way of light were making their way toward the Burrow.  
  
Molly Weasley had a habit ........ a tradition, if you will. Every motning, she woke with the sun and opened every window in teh downstairs, allowing sunlight and fred ait to stream in. Weather permitting, of course.  
  
And thismorning, the weather wasmost DEFINATELY permitting. Molly smiled softly, idly wondering if George could, perhaps, be coaxed into going outside on such a fine day.  
  
It was as she opened the main window, close to the door, that Milly saw the body.  
  
Fred hair matted and dirty, clothes and ripped practically to shreds, Fred Weasley lay on the doorstep, body twisted to an odd angle. But alive. He was most definately alive, if the ragged rise and fall of his chest was anything to go by.  
  
Molly screamed. Screamed with all her might, screamed as she hadn't screamed since before the downfall of Lord voldermot in the first war.  
  
Ginny was the first one to make it to hermother, her door being closest to the stair.  
  
Molly Weasley was siting, her back to her daughet, holding the head of all, gangly red-head in her lap, the rest of his body sprawled out across the floor.  
  
Finny sighed softly, leaning heavily against the kitchen counter. George must have woken up in the nigt again, had a panic attack and come down here. It happened almost every night, ever since Fred had ........ dissappeared. He'd tried to be quiet about it, but ........ he wasn't exactly the most quiet of things, tramping up and down the stairs in the middle of the night.  
  
She's though about following him down so many times, of trying to comfort him, helping to ease the pain she knew hemust be feeling. But what could see possibly say that would make him feel even the slighest bit better? Nothing. So she had left him to cry in solitude.  
  
Turning to head back to her room, Ginny gasped softly as ran straight into a solid, obviously male chest.  
  
"Hey, Gin, what's goin on?" George asked softly y awning widely and running a hand through his messy red hair.  
  
Ginny felt her blood run cold, as she slowly raied her eyes to stare into her brother's chocolate brown eyes.  
  
"George ... I ... Fred, I mean ..." Finny knew that he was babbling, but couldn't seem to stop herself. If George was here, stading in front of her, than that meant that ........   
  
"Fred!" Ginny gasped out, spinning on her heel andmaking a mad dash for the door.  
  
George followed more sedately, cautiously behind his sister, carefully keeping hismind clear of any insane or foolish thoughts thatmight drifs through, giving him false hopes.  
  
Ginny was gasping for breath as she came to a st op just behind her mother, but it wasn't from the physical exertion.   
  
She'd given up hope days ago, of Fred ever returning to them. She wasn't stupid - she knew the odds. Fred had been kindapped -- by Death Eaters. You just ........ didn't survive something like that.  
  
Voldermort did NOT show mercy, and he did not make mistakes. Ginny knew that -- not from mths or stories, but from personal experience. Everyting he did, he did with a specific purpose in mind.  
  
Ginny quickly moved aside and away as she heard George's sharply indrawn breath, giving her brother ample time to rush to his twin's side.  
  
Fred was alive, for a specific purpose and reason. But WHY? 


	8. chapter 8

Ginny Weasley watched as George paced to the other side of the room, stopped, turned on his heel, and repeated the proccess. Just watching him was making her tired.

George, wold you please sit down? Wearing a hold in the floor is most DEFINATELY not going to help Fred, alright?" Ginny sighed as George didn't even pause, just continued his trek back and forth across the room.

Something was wrong with Fred. Nobody was saying anything, but they also weren't letting anybody in to see him. Not even George.

And thus, the pacing.

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Fred glacned p from his position in the corner of the room, knees, drawn up to his chest and his arms wrapped around them.

Snape had arrived last night, just as he was beginning to wake up. The story Lucius had given him had been there, on the tip of his tongue ... and then that damned traitor had been there, spouting off some trash lies about Papa messing with his mind.

So now, he was locked up in this goddamned room at Howarts - locked, barred, and spelled. Even the House-Elves weren't allowed near him.

ONly DUmbledore. Always Dumbledore. Dose after dose, spell after spell, all to find out the truth of what had happened, how he had recieved the Dark Mark ... and just what his relationship was with Voldemort.

He'd told them everything. He couldn't stop himself, couldn't hold back anything. SO now they knew it all - the meetings with Voldemorts, the little presents and favors of love.

They wouldn't let him see George. Out of everything that had happened, that was perhaps the wort out of all of it.

He needed George; always had. It was the main reason why he had never proclaimed himself a follower of Voldemort, why he hadn't gone to live with Papa permanently. As misguided as his twin was, he needed him.

And George could never accept Papa. Could never accept the truth about Dumbledore. He was too much of a Gryffindor; too sure in his definition of right and wrong, good and evil.

Hearing the door to his room opening and then softly closing again, Fred sight softly, bringing his head up to stare into the shocked eyes of Bill Weasley.

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well, here's another chapter. i've been short on inspiration for all my stories lately. let me know what you think!


	9. chapter 9

Bill wasn't really sure what he had expected, when he was told to interrogate a Death Eater. He'd been told that it was a young man, still attending Hogwarts, and that he was proving uncooperative to Professor Dumbledore's questions. So, they'd decided to send in somebody else. He'd hadn't known then why he had been chosen. But now he did.

They had chosen him because of his connection to that teen. Because they were brothers. And really, they couldn't send George in. He'd never made it more than five minutes before having a nervous breakdown, just from the knoledge that his twin brother had switched sides.

And how had that happened, anyway? How could Fred, of all people, have turned to voldemort, joined his side secretly? There had been no indication of him hacing a change of heart, of anything having happened that could push him over the edge into hating muggle-borns. Heck, not that long ago he'd been trying to keep it quiet that he had a slight crush on Hermione, of all people!

That had been kind of funny, actually ...

Kneeling in front of his brother's still form, Bill forced himself to look into chocolate brown eyes, eyes tht always been filled with love and laughter. Now, they were guarded, and for the first time in his life, Bill couldn't tell what the younger boy was thinking. Both of the twins had always been such open books before, had always been so easy for him to read.

Not anymore.

Bill closed his eyes, drawing in a deep breath and then slowly exhaling it back out again. Opening his eyes again, he stared at Fred for a moment longer before standing to his feet and walking to the other side of the room.

"Why?"

Fred glanced up at that one word, wondering idly what Dumbledore had told him, before sending the oldest Weasley boy off on this fool's errand. For that was what it was - the errand one wold give to only a fool. He wasn't going to listen to them, wasn't going to be swayed by their ignorant words. They didn't know Papa, so why should he listen to anything they had to say about him?

When no answer was forthcomming, Bill rubbed a hand across his eyes, head bowed slightly. This was going to be a long night.

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Ginny stared down at her hands clasped in front oher, vaguely aware of George's continued pacing. George hda refused to go to sleep earlier that night, and their parents hadn't really tried to stop him. She'd snuck downstairs lafter Mum and Dead had gone to bed, hoping to keep him company nad perhaps calm him down a bit. So far, it didn't seem to be working. He barely even acknowledged her presense.

Not that it really mattered - there was no way that she was going to be getting any sleep tonight, not with all of the thought s jumping arond in her head, attempting to drive her BLOODY INSANE. That was what it felt like, anyway.

kAll of the conclusions she kept drawing had to be totally false. They just didn't add up. What would fred be doing joining Voldemort's cause, anyway? It was bloody ridiculous. But still, the suspiscions persisted, refusing to leave her be.

This was going to be a long night.

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haha! betchya didn't expect another update from me so soon, huh? apparently i'm getting back into the swing of things, my inspiration slowlyc omming back to me. let mek now what you think! and thankyou for all of the lovely reviews! i'm having trouble accessing email account right now (stupid yet lovely computer - can't have it's feeling hurt. it's the only one in the house since my bro set his on fire and mine decided to crash.) or i'd respong to each and every review personally. there weren't that many of them - mostly fromt he same reviewer, actually. but every single one helps me to get the creative juices flowing :D


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